


i'm sitting here, crying in my prom dress

by littleblueviolets



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, One Sided Love, Prom, Smoking, Unrequited Love, Weed, eddie is straight because angst, it's mostly just stan & richie everyone else is just mentioned, mike isn't in this at all and i'm sorry, prom au, stanley is a good friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-08 12:30:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21476056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleblueviolets/pseuds/littleblueviolets
Summary: Richie isn't sure when exactly Stan got there, but it doesn't really matter. The wind howls and the night is colder that ever, but he can't bring himself to go back inside.He feels Stan shiver beside him and takes another puff of his cigarette.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, One-sided Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris - Relationship
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	i'm sitting here, crying in my prom dress

Richie doesn't hear him the first few times he asks.

It's cold, eyelash-freezing and metal-sticking cold, but when he takes slow puffs of his cigarette that's almost run down to the bump and is slowly creeping up to burn his fingers, the toxic and fake warmth spreads all over his body like a blanket passing through. 

Stan asks again. _Are you okay?_

It's a simple question of yes or no, but Richie ponders on the answer for some time before averting his gaze to the metal railing that stands in front of the school and aggressively putting out his cigarette.

"Yep, Stan the Man, everything is a-okay." He tries to make it sound offhand and smooth, but it comes out ragged and hitched and _wrong_. He takes a deep breath and pulls another cigarette out of his front pocket.

"I saw Eddie." It's a statement that Richie really doesn't want to hear, but he has no easy and painless way of avoiding it, so instead he attempts to light his cigarette.

Stan is as quiet as a bird, and Richie supposes the description fits him.

The music in the hall is loud us, blasting through the tiny cracks in the closed doors — a man croons something about love and Richie cringes, stubbing out his new and unlit cigarette. A groan escapes his lips and he can feel Stan staring into the back of his neck with his pity eyes, and he almost turns around and runs away from all of his problems like always.

Stan sighs.

Stan is soft and pitying — he feels too much and acts on too little, creating a sort of thick, suffocating loop that makes something out of the put on illusion that Stan doesn't give two fucks. In reality, Stan cares too much and Richie cares too little about the things that do matter, and that binds them in a forever string that indicates friendship. He supposes he should care about Stan the way he cares about Eddie, but Stan will never be enough. It's a painful and empty thought filled with some sort of guilt that creeps up Richie's spine and settles itself deep in his mind, refusing to leave or move.

It's not fair and Richie curses himself for it — it would be so, so much easier and less heart-wrenching if Stan could just replace Eddie; fill the void in Richie's soul and stop Eddie's voice from being repeated over and over and _over, _his stupid _don't call me E__ds!! _playing on an endless loop in Richie's brain, blocking out everything and nothing, making Richie prone to distractions and bad grades and not noticing Henry in the hallways.

But Richie knows it as well as Stan does — as much as Richie loves Stan and Bev and Ben and Bill and Mike, nothing could replace Eddie even if they tried their best.

He lets out a laugh, and feels Stan sigh in the background.

"You know what's funny?" Richie asks him, but his voice is quivering and he feels like he's going to fall apart into a million tiny pieces; a puzzle that even Stan can't put back together. In the background, Stan doesn't answer. 

Richie answers anyway. 

"The fact, that, like, no matter what the hell I do, I can't get out of this stupid town. Fuck Derry, Stan the Man."

He stubs out the last of his unlit cigarette and turns around, looking at Stanley's face. The music sings inside the open doors, and Richie can feel the vibrations through his feet. He takes out a cigarette and lights the end of it, almost burning his fingers.

"Fuck Derry." Stan adds.


End file.
